by Elicia Hyder
“And nobody needs to see it either,” I said, shaking my head.
Everyone laughed.
I looked at Iliana again. “But yes, I would love for you to spoil the play-by-play just a little. I’ll settle for the highlights.”
She crossed her arms on the tabletop. “Well, I was homeschooled until the third grade. Then everyone decided Asheville was safe enough for me to attend public school. I was the only kid who had a security detail working just off the property, but it was an uneventful few years.”
“Uneventful is always good in our world,” I said.
“Amen to that,” Sloan agreed.
“I never had a dramatic coming-of-age moment like Jett or Rogan did, but by the time I was fourteen, I could control my powers fairly well. Mom practiced with me, and so did Kane and Samael.”
“You practiced with her?” I asked Sloan.
She held her hands in the prayer position in front of her, then she opened them slowly. White light danced in her palms.
“You still have your powers.” I clapped my hands.
She hid her hands beneath the table again. “They never came back like they were before Iliana was born, but yes. I’ve been able to strengthen them over the years.”
“She healed a lot of people, too, during the virus,” Nathan said, draping his arm across the back of her chair.
Of course she had. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Be proud of her.” Sloan pointed at our daughter. “She’s been putting me to shame since she was a kid.”
I was proud of her. And I couldn’t wait to see what else she could do.
“Tell Warren about the Christmas cookies incident,” Sloan said to Nathan.
Nathan burst out laughing.
“Christmas cookies?” Fury asked.
Iliana groaned. “They love to tell this story.”
“And it’s my right as a father to tell it the rest of your life.” Nathan took a drink of his beer, then put the bottle down. “So every Christmas, Sloan and the kids make a bunch of Christmas cookies to hand out to teachers and leave out for Santa. And every Christmas, Iliana and Luca get in big trouble for sneaking the cookies out of the pantry.”
“They aren’t the only ones,” Sloan said, glaring at her husband.
“Hey, this story isn’t about me.”
She laughed.
“Childproofing shit did nothing with a Houdini baby in the house.” He pointed at Iliana. “So Sloan decided to start hiding the cookies in the panic room.”
“You have a panic room in your house?” Anya asked.
“Do you remember the material, high-Z, that lined the walls of Echo-10?” Fury asked her.
“The angelproofing stuff?”
“Yeah. The panic room was made from it,” Fury said.
“It was put in for emergencies, but we hadn’t used it in years, so Sloan started hiding things in there. As for high-Z being angelproof, it’s not if Iliana really makes her mind up about getting through it,” Nathan said.
I sat back and covered my mouth. “Oh no.”
“This kid pulverized the panic-room door. I mean, a billion tiny shards of metal embedded in the drywall.”
“It was a wonder she didn’t kill herself,” Sloan added.
“She almost killed her brother. He was an accomplice, and he got caught in the explosion,” Nathan said.
“Luca was fine,” Iliana argued.
Sloan’s mouth dropped open. “Only because you healed him.”
The whole table erupted into laughter, drawing stares from the rest of the room. Cassiel and I locked eyes before I quickly darted mine away.
“You blew up the door?” Anya asked Iliana.
“I was hungry! They never fed me!”
“Yes, we did,” Sloan argued. “Why do you think we had to lock everything up? If something had sugar in it, it wasn’t safe around you.”
Fury chuckled. “Wonder where she got that, Nathan.”
He put his hands up in defense. “Hey, I never tried explosives to get to the snacks.”
“Hmm.” Reuel looked guilty. He inched his hand up in the air, and everyone laughed again.
“How old were you?” Anya asked.
Iliana shrugged. “Maybe twelve. I dunno.”
“After that,” Nathan continued, “Iliana was forbidden from using superpowers inside the house.”
“Did you at least find the cookies?” Fury asked Iliana.
“Yeah, but most of them didn’t survive the explosion. Santa didn’t get any cookies that year.”
“And Santa was pissed,” Nathan said.
“I hate I missed it.” My laughter faded into sadness. I’d missed everything. All the stories. All the milestones. Her whole childhood and then some.
Static crackled in my ears. “Appa, don’t be sad,” a gentle voice, inaudible to the others, said. Iliana was smiling at me. “And if you have to be sad, I’ll be happy enough for both of us because you’re home.”
I smiled and blinked hard to keep the tears at bay. I reached across the table for her hand and squeezed it.
Beside her, Jett’s face snapped up. Someone, I suspected Rogan, was communicating silently with him too. He turned to Iliana and kept his voice low. “We need to deal with the prisoner.”
“Now?” She released my hand.
Jett whispered something in her ear even my keen ears couldn’t hear. Iliana pushed back her chair. “I’m sorry, but I need to excuse myself. Drama calls.”
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She and Jett stood. “Your Nulterra guide has decided he’s done cooperating.” Iliana searched the room until she spotted Cassiel. “It’s time.”
Cassiel offered Sandalphon a hand up.
“I’ll come too,” I said.
I expected Fury would want to go, but she didn’t budge. I put my hand on her thigh under the table. “You coming?”
“No, unless you really want me to.” She let out a slow, tired sigh. “I’ve had enough of demons and destruction for a while. I’d kinda like to spend some time with my sister tonight, if that’s OK with you.”
It was interesting she’d rather spend time with Anya than go with me and Jett. But then again, Jett was a painful subject at the moment. And would probably be one for a while.
“Of course.” I leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll meet you in the room later?”
“Wake me if I’m asleep,” she whispered.
The mention of sleep triggered another yawn.
“You gonna make it?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m gonna try.” I stood. “Reuel, you coming?”
His brow scrunched together as he shook his head. Not surprising. This situation had a high probability of turning violent, and Reuel was a pacifist in most situations if he could manage it.
Also, dessert hadn’t yet been served.
I turned to Sloan and Nathan. “Thank you, guys, for a wonderful welcome home. Sorry we have to cut this short.”
Nathan waved his hand. “Go handle your angel business. We’re not going anywhere.”
I smiled, and Iliana and Jett met me around the table. Cassiel and Sandalphon were moving slowly toward the door. We easily beat them there, saving me from an uncomfortable walk with Cassiel.
Arguing voices floated on the night breeze when the three of us walked outside. The noise was coming from the villa where Torman was being held.
“Are you really going to kill him?” I asked Iliana as we crossed the lawn beneath the stars.
She was between me and Jett, and she looked over at me in the moonlight. “Why? You don’t want me to?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just curious if there’s a protocol for this. Is he given a trial, or what?”
“We need to question him about his involvement in what’s happened recently. And find out if he has any knowledge of the Morning Star’s future plans. Cassiel and Sandalphon will determine if he lying, and then I’ll make my decision.”
>
“What decisions have you made in the past?”
“Are you asking me how many times I’ve inflicted a death sentence?” She stared straight ahead.
“Yes.”
With humans, death leaves tally marks on the soul, and my whole life—human and otherwise—I’d been able to count those tally marks with a glance. But angels were different.
And Iliana was different from all angels.
It was a strange thing for me to wonder. And an even stranger thing for me to ask my child.
“I’ve destroyed four of the fallen.”
Her tone brought me some relief. The thought of my daughter as an executioner wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but it was clear she didn’t enjoy it. Her eyes were on the ground.
“That’s four fewer demons we’ll have to worry about if this comes to war,” Jett said, putting his hand on the back of her neck.
“When this comes to war, don’t you mean?” I asked.
His head tilted to the side. “Perhaps.”
“Do you really think we can take on the Morning Star and win?” Iliana asked.
I stopped walking and turned toward her. “Iliana, since before you were born, the angels have marveled at and feared just the possibility of what you’d be capable of. Angels don’t fear anything, but I have literally had to fight to convince them that you wouldn’t be a threat to Eden.”
I bent to look her in the eye and put both hands on her small shoulders. “And don’t ever forget, even though you were conceived in love, by the demon’s own design, you were created to be the most dangerous weapon to ever exist. So do I think we can beat the Morning Star?” I leaned closer. “Hell yeah, I do.”
With a smile, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
Something crashed inside the villa. I released her, and the three of us ran the rest of the way. Jett threw open the door, and Rogan was using his power to hold Torman on the ground. A chair had been thrown through the sliding-glass door out to the deck.
“Warren…you’re here,” Torman choked out.
“Let him up,” Iliana said to Rogan.
Reluctantly, Rogan dropped the hand that was aimed at Torman. The Angel of Knowledge gasped for air. Torman rolled onto his back, wheezing like his trachea had been crushed. Perhaps it had been.
Jett walked over and picked up the chair. Then Rogan used his power again to lift Torman off the floor and put him in it.
Iliana walked over and stood in front of him. “Decided to get rowdy, did we?”
“I’m being held here unjustly,” Torman said, his voice pained and raspy. Around his wrists were the silver cuffs Rogan had clamped on him earlier. I assumed they somehow limited the demon’s power.
“You think we’re holding you here without cause?” Iliana asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know you are. Warren, tell them.”
I stood behind Iliana. “We know nothing of the sort.”
“I’ve been imprisoned in Nulterra most of your life. There’s no way I could have possibly done anything to offend you. Whatever has happened here in the last seventeen years has been done without my knowledge or involvement.”
Cassiel and Sandalphon walked in the door behind us.
“We’ll see about that.” Iliana looked back at Cassiel. “Are you ready to get the truth out of him?”
Cassiel bowed her head. “Gladly.” She walked behind Torman’s chair and put both her hands on the sides of his head. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Torman, I shouldn’t have to explain to you what Cassiel’s purpose is here, but I will so there’s absolutely no confusion as to what the consequences will be if you don’t cooperate.
“We are going to ask you a series of questions. As an Angel of Knowledge, like you, Cassiel has the ability to tell us if you’re lying. If you refuse to answer, she will extract the information from your mind and tell us anyway. Should we need her services, you will be punished.” Iliana turned her right palm over, and electric blue energy sizzled to life above it.
It was the same power the Angels of Death could use to kill a human. It wouldn’t be strong enough to kill Torman, though she had that ability too, but it wouldn’t be pleasant for him. His widened eyes told us he knew that.
“I have nothing to hide from you.”
“I hope, for your sake, that is the case,” Iliana said, letting the energy fizzle out.
I fought to suppress a smile. My kid was a badass.
Iliana widened her stance and kept her arms crossed in front of her. “When was the last time you spoke to the Morning Star?”
“I haven’t spoken to the Morning Star since he came to Earth and implanted himself into the womb of Azrael’s human.”
“Not at all?” Iliana asked.
“I’ve been in prison. Our chains there cut off all communication with other angels.”
We all looked at Cassiel for confirmation. She nodded that he was telling the truth.
“Demons can communicate with each other?” Iliana asked.
“Of course.”
“Mind if I ask a question?” I asked Iliana.
“Sure.”
I stepped up beside her and looked at Torman. “Abaddon, the Destroyer, told me it was his idea for the Morning Star to be born to Adrianne, ‘Azrael’s human’ as you call her. He said it was his plan for the Morning Star to be born into his own prison. Is that the truth?”
“Yes, it was the Destroyer’s idea. However, you would be stupid to believe that the Morning Star hadn’t worked out every possible scenario before making the decision to put himself into such a potentially precarious situation. I have no doubt he carefully considered the implications of being born so close to the Vitamorte.” Torman looked at Iliana.
“But you don’t know for sure?” I asked.
“I do not. The Morning Star kept his own counsel. He would not have shared such vital information with anyone else. And shortly after he put the plan into motion, I was arrested by the Destroyer and locked in a cell.”
Again, Cassiel nodded.
“How long has Chimera been working for the Morning Star?” Iliana asked.
Torman was hesitant to answer. Cassiel’s knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on his head. He winced. “I don’t know when she got directly involved with the Morning Star, but I convinced Chimera to join us when I found her living in Ukraine in 2012.”
I gritted my teeth. “Chimera told us she met you in 2013, the year I met Sloan. So she lied to me about absolutely everything.”
“We told you she was good at it,” Iliana said.
“What can you tell us about the spirit line?” Rogan asked.
Torman shrugged. “It’s gone, so I’ve been told. I haven’t had access to the spirit line since Chimera was born. And as I’ve already said—”
“You’ve been locked up in Nulterra. Yeah, we know.” Jett shook his head and looked at Iliana. “He’s of no use to us.”
“Do you know how the Morning Star created it? Or how he created the second spirit line into Nulterra?” I asked.
“Of course I don’t. The only angels who could tell you are the Morning Star and Azrael. Why don’t you ask him? Oh, that’s right. Azrael has rejoined the fallen. Old habits, you know.”
My fists clenched.
“I overheard you talking at the gate,” he continued. “Sounds like things turned out far better for the Morning Star than even he had planned. The world’s largest army at his disposal and a quarter of all humans dead? And he’s just getting started.”
Iliana’s expression was pained.
“What do you know about the virus?” Jett asked.
“I know nothing about a virus, but the Morning Star has researched biological weapons for centuries. He always dreamed of being able to pick and choose the humans he wanted to live and die.”
Iliana looked up at me. “We believe he vaccinated all the employe
es and operators at Claymore. There weren’t any reports from anyone at the company getting sick.”
“And no one found that suspicious?” I asked.
“There was so much chaos when the virus hit, no one was paying attention,” Rogan said.
“Did the Morning Star have any other schemes in development?” Jett asked.
Torman pointed. “Only the Vitamorte.”
The Morning Star had carefully planned to bring Sloan and I together so we might breed the Vitamorte—a powerful angel of both life and death. He’d wanted to use our child’s power to forever separate Earth from Eden.
“But I don’t see how that’s relevant now. The plan was to use Iliana to destroy the spirit line, but he’s already done that.” Torman eyeballed Cassiel. “Thanks to someone.”
She stiffened.
“What about after he used her to destroy the spirit line? There must have been a plan for Iliana after that,” Jett said.
Torman looked Iliana up and down. “He would have raised her to be one of us. And if she didn’t conform, he would have killed her.”
Rogan and Jett, Iliana’s protectors, exchanged a loaded glance. “Kill her how?” Rogan asked.
My brow lifted. “Helkrymite.” Everyone looked at me as I pulled the sword from the scabbard on my back. “The swords have the power to kill angels.”
Cassiel looked up. “They were created to kill the Vitamorte.”
My stomach turned. Something about holding a weapon specifically made to destroy my daughter made me want to drop it.
“True?” Jett asked Torman.
“She pulled that information out of my brain, didn’t she?” Torman asked with an annoyed glare. “The Morning Star’s plan had always been to breed the Vitamorte, but he was well aware of the risks. Before he ever set Iliana’s birth into motion, he protected himself if the plan were to go wrong.”
“Then why did guards in Nulterra have them?” I asked.
“Why do you think? The swords may have been created to kill her, but their use has obviously spread beyond that now. Abaddon was executing angels in Nulterra. I’ve watched the demise of many of my friends by the swords’ blades.”
“How many swords are there?” Rogan asked.
“The Morning Star had enough of the Father’s sanctonite to forge seven swords.”
“You’re sure?” Jett asked.